


Nice

by MinMaxie



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Internal Monologue, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3, One Shot, Speeches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinMaxie/pseuds/MinMaxie
Summary: You don't have to travel far to go someplace nice





	Nice

 

 

Yesterday the Normandy landed on Menae to retrieve Primarch Fedorian, but found Primarch Victus instead.  That suited Shepard fine, one politician was as good as another in her mind, because if this elaborately painted man could get the job done then she didn't much care what his name was.  However, the major win for the day had been finding a certain other turian alive and well.

To say it was "nice" to have Garrus back was like saying the Reaper invasion was a "problem".  Although it was, at its core, a true statement, it hardly did the situation justice.  It had been over five months since the two people had seen each other, and when Shepard saw the way Palaven burned through the cockpit viewport she had assumed it was going to be a whole lot longer.  And, given the awkward and abrupt way they had to leave things between them, that would have also been... "unfortunate".

Her mood had been downright sour the whole day as Shepard hid her true emotions in the usual way: a thick coat of war paint and her Alliance dress blues.  The legendary Commander Shepard, First Human Spector, Defender of the Citadel, and Savior of Elysium didn't crack under pressure, never.  Instead, she would wear her rank and title right on her chest and double the intensity of her grit.  Just her presence in a room was enough to make all hands stop dead and salute her while simultaneously hiding their prickled flesh.

She was a Captain, a Commander, a Savior, a Hero, a Living Legend!  Not a woman...not a person.  That's what this galaxy wanted from her, and she was determined to give them all the rock-hard soldier they could stomach.

It was days like that where she, quite ironically, missed Garrus the most.  For a man that started out as an almost jarringly brash C-Sec officer with a nearly terminal case of star-struck hero worship, he actually turned out alright.  He was the only one who saw past the thick mask to see Shepard for who she really was, and then care enough to do anything about it.  Little things like, "how are you", "did you eat today", "what's the matter", and "when did you last sleep" were sometimes all she needed to summon the strength to keep going. 

At first, she thought it was because of Garrus's relative freedom, being that he was the only one on board the Cerberus-funded ship who had volunteered for the mission and therefore wasn't under her direct command, but evidence quickly mounted against that theory.  Others volunteered, but they didn't care about her health.  Some old crew members had the chance to, but all refused.  All but Garrus, who didn't hesitate for a second.  Didn't even _ask_ really. 

Two years after her, um, _"sudden disappearance",_ she found him in a ruined dump stacking up a kill count so impressive a marathon session of an FPS terminal game would pale in comparison.  When his streak did (eventually) end, Shepard of course brought him aboard to treat his critical wounds because, regardless of uniform color, Shepard took care of her own.  What really surprised her is when Garrus waltzed right out of intensive care like it was a lunch break flew shot, stopped by for a quick debrief, and just... got to work.  She hadn't had a chance to ask him to join, nor did he ask for recruitment like he did on the SR1, instead he just found a niche and announced his new job description as if challenging anyone to stop him. 

Shepard absolutely didn't.  Garrus was the one member of her former crew that Shepard had assumed that she would not find again - since she had been told that he dropped off the grid shortly after the crash - but in a twist of fate he was the second one she found!  (Technically, Tali was first, but Shepard, later, understood why the quarian turned her down, and she eventually more than made up for it.)  To Shepard the fact that the "Archangel" dossier had led to Garrus Vakarian - the unbelievably capable turian sniper/tech wizard/expert mechanic/comrade - had been the definition of a godsend.  A proverbial cavalry of gift horses she wouldn't _dare_ look in the mouth. 

That's why, for the first few days, Shepard almost didn't want to speak to him for fear of scaring him away with her unsettling, glowing, cybernetic appearance, but she was glad she did.  By the first word she could feel Garrus already soothing her frazzled psyche with polite, informal, friendly conversation and that alien voice that was (very secretly) lovely to listen to.  More importantly, he had alluded that certain members of the "humanity first" crew had been impolite.  The quick, carefully worded comment was completely professional and casually glossed over, but Shepard caught it nonetheless.  Garrus made it very clear that the attitude was nothing he didn't already expect or couldn't handle, but Shepard still brought a swift end to that problem with a casual beg of pardon, a take of leave, a quick gathering of humans in the cargo bay, and a brutal leveling of non-sarcastic death threats.

_"Thank you for coming.  Have a seat, settle in, shut your mouth, open your ears, and I promise to make this quick.  I have gathered you all here to address the elephant in the room or, more specifically, the turian on our ship.  
_ _  
Now, I understand the concerns.  I remember the war, I've heard the stories, and I am under no illusion that this isn't an uncomfortable situation.  I may be young, but I still remember a time when Earth was all there was and I know exactly what their kind did to ours.  
_ _  
However, this PARTICULAR turian is a massive exception.  Nope, let me finish.  His name is Garrus Vakarian and he served on my crew on the SR1.  In fact, he was right there next to me on the day I became a Spector and played a critical role in taking down Saren, Sovereign, and the Geth.  To say the Citadel is still standing because of Garrus Vakarian is not an exaggeration.  
_ __  
Now.  Don't tell him I said this, God knows he doesn't need the ego boost, but... truthfully?  I'm good, but Garrus is better.  Maybe he doesn't have the leadership experience yet, but when it comes to practical knowledge like, I don't know... tech mastery, machinery repair, armor upkeep, weapon system optimization, math... he blows me out of the water.  Oh, and most importantly, he's the best damn sniper I've ever seen and can routinely hit a target the size of a credit chit from 500 yards.  I saw him do it YESTERDAY.  Wounded, without food or sleep for 72 hours, pumped full of enough chems to kill a krogan, and generally having the worst day of his life... (holds up smaller than palm sized credit chit) 500 yards.  No set up.  First try.

_So... I'm going to go out on a limb and say nobody here can do that.  I sure as shit can't._

_Thought so._

_Here's my point.  We NEED him.  Ironically, and this is the funny part, I didn't get a chance to formally recruit him!  But, like the little bird of prey that he is, Garrus just flew right through the door and made a nest in the Main Battery.  I don't know why, but like hell I'm gonna question it._

_However!  If one day he decides to fly back OUT the door, we can all kiss our collective asses goodbye because those Collector bastards are going to rip us all to shreds.  I'm dead fucking serious.  You don't have to like that fact, but it is the god's honest truth._

_Therefore, I am ordering all of you to suck it up and be adults.  You don't have to LIKE him, I'm not asking you to be friends him or go out for drinks or anything, but ALL crew members of the Normandy SR2 under my command WILL act with the level of maturity and professionalism that an assignment of this caliber mandates.  Future more, on a more personal level, Garrus Vakarian has saved my life more times than I can count and I consider him my comrade._  

_That being said...If I find out that ANY of you have been ANY less than PERFECTLY polite the new dextro hawk, your Commander will immediately relieve you of your duty, and Jane Shepard WILL replace your helmet with a bullet.  Do we understand each other?_

_Glad to hear it.  Dismissed._   
  


Shepard smiled every time she thought about that speech.  It was probably the best one she had ever given...but the possessive defensiveness behind it should have been a clue. 

Eventually, it was the little things that gave them both away.  It started with a half-formed remark about women liking scars, answered by an anonymous, but substantial, upgrade to the ship's dextro rations, which came on the heels of a wounded man's insubordinate refusal to avoid exposure to a fatal plague.  Then, in time, a few candid conversations turned into blatant requests for strategic advice which, once paired with a few expertly placed shots, lead to an invisible gluing of hips. 

Swapping stories over drinks during mutually sleepless nights eventually became a hot compress that soothed the aches of war and pulled some common ground to the surface.  Sharp pains of admitting weakness ignored in favor of releasing pressure, finding relief, and seeking desperate comfort from the only other person who might understand.  They stoked each other's flames, cooled the other's wrath, and kept one another in the fight like two lead dogs on a sled team.  A nod, a smile, a flick of a mandible… and after one joke the whole thing snowballed into flashy new armor, a bottle of wine, and a writhing mass of tongues, hair, and plated flesh rolling shamelessly in front of the gates of hell.

It felt amazing.     
  


Shepard let smoke of her cigarette hiss through her teeth when she leveled a sideways glare in response to his stupid question.

"I'll take that as a yes," he replied flatly, though the undertones of his voice let slip the nervous excitement in his heart. 

"Garrus," she said while snuffing her vice in the tray on her nightstand.  "If you leave this bed again, I might just kill you."

"Well then," he purred as he rolled back on top of her.  "Good to see my... romantic skills made an impression."

She gripped the front of his cowl and spike of his fringe like they were the last sure holds on a cliff face.  "I think they did a little more than that..."  Side teeth pinched a red tongue's tip just before it shot inside a blue, alien throat where it stayed, off and on, until morning.

Today, Shepard was amazed she could walk.  Turns out, starting a partnership then almost immediately pausing it for half a year is universally frustrating.  However, everything was going to be okay now. 

 

Garrus was back, and it was a little more than "nice".

 


End file.
